


I like you, a lot.

by dvorahbee



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Black Panther (2018) Spoilers, Fluff, M/M, Points of View, Post-Black Panther (2018), but with more fluff and feelings, movie events, no smutt omg who am i, or i think it is, seriously it's just fluff galore, spoilers but only if you haven't seen Black Panther fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 09:42:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14615577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvorahbee/pseuds/dvorahbee
Summary: Basically some Black Panther events but with my own twists and turns on Ross and T'Challa.Fluff galore ahead -  grown men blush a lot in this.





	I like you, a lot.

**Author's Note:**

> Hyphens indicate when the point of view changes.

“I like you, a lot,” Everett had said.

Now that he thought about it he wanted to slap himself, but he’d meant it. T’Challa was honest and kind. That’s why what Klaue had said didn’t make sense.

But look at him.

One minute he was talking to T’Challa about it, the other he was jumping in front of Nakia, preventing her to be shot, but being shot himself.

Talk about regretting his life choices. Joining the CIA. Getting involved with the Sokovia Accords mess. Getting involved with Klaue.

 

 

He'd been sure he was going to die but he woke up anyway. He looked around and didn’t recognise anything.

_Where the hell was he?_

There was some music playing in the background. Someone had to be here somewhere.

He got up and was surprised he wasn’t feeling any pain in his back whatsoever. He tried to feel the area where he thought he’d been shot but nothing. It was as if he hadn’t been shot at all. No matter, he needed to talk to someone, anyone.

He was in some kind of lab, one that could be Stark’s but in way more evolved. He turned around and saw a young girl standing there.

“Alright, where am I?” He asked, maybe a little aggressively, but he needed answers, _now_.

“Don’t scare me like that, coloniser!” the young girl answered.

“Col- what. My name is Everett,” he said, walking towards the girl.

“Yes, I know,” she said. “Everett Ross, former Air Force pilot and now, CIA.”

Everett was looking at her, more confused than ever.

“Right.” He looked around the room once again. A thought occurred in his misty mind. “Okay, is this Wakanda?”

“No, it’s Kansas,” the girl answered, not bothering to turn around.

Everett rolled his eyes. How long had he been here? How was he alive and walking? Where was T’Challa?

“How long ago was Korea?” He settled on asking.

“Yesterday.”

Impossible.

“I don’t think so. Bullet wounds don’t just magically heal overnight.” The girl chuckled.

“They do here. But not by magic, by technology.”

He looked around and, for a third time, was amazed by what he was seeing.

“Don’t touch anything, my brother will return soon,” the young girl told him.

_Her brother_? Was she talking about T’Challa? Where was he? And how soon was soon?

He shook his head. It didn’t matter right now.

He walked towards the panel of glasses that served as windows and, _wow_. Alright. The lab seemed to be underground of some mountain, there were rapidly moving trains and a strange blue lighting. This was Wakanda? Well, shit.

“These train things, that’s magnetic levitation, right?” Everett asked as he turned around, his brain working a mile per minute.

“Obviously,” the girl answered.

“Obviously. But, er, I’ve never seen it this…efficient,” he smiled to himself. He was amazed. There was no other word. “The light panels, what are they?”

“Sonic stabilisers,” she answered.

“Sonic what?”

“In its real form, vibranium is too dangerous to be transported at this speed, so I developed a way to temporarily deactivate it,” she said, sounding proud of herself.

“There’s vibranium on these trains?” Everett asked because _what_. Klaue had been right, after all.

“There’s vibranium all around us,” she gestured around the room. “That’s how I healed you,” she smiled.

_What_. Shit, he was more confused than ever.

She chuckled but was cut off short when something rand. She gestured for him to stay silent and touched something on her wrist.

A holographic image of the woman who’d been with T’Challa in Korea appeared from her wrist.

“Where is T’Challa?” She asked. She kept talking with T’Challa’s sister, but Ross didn’t listen. This holographic contact device was incredible.

However, his amazement in front of Wakandan technology was also cut short when the girl put up an image of Erik Stevens, also called Killmonger.

“He’s not a Wakandan,” he told the girl. “He’s one of ours.”

He hadn’t rested long before trouble came to Wakanda, but that was his life, after all. So, the girl – Shuri, she’d told him later – gave him clothes and called her brother.

Once he was there with Nakia, Everett told them everything the CIA knew about Erik to T’Challa and wasn’t going to ask himself why he did so. He trusted him so, what the hell. No one was there to know and Killmonger was trouble.

Before he went on his way to his counsel, T’Challa stayed back to talk to him. If Everett’s heart beat a little faster, no one had to know.

 

**__________**

T’Challa may have made a mistake. Or several. But he was convinced that bringing Agent Ross with them to heal him wasn’t one, even though Okoye disagreed.

He had let Ross with Shuri. Or, she had kicked everyone out while Okoye kept telling them what a bad idea this was.

His mind was in actual shambles. He’d just become king of Wakanda but his dad was dead. He had had the opportunity to catch Klaue but failed. Among all this mess was the possibility that he had a cousin who could claim the throne of a country he’d never lived in before. Agent Ross had been badly shot using his body to shield Nakia from incoming shots. And, of course, Nakia.

He’d talked about her with his dad. Whereas T’Challa had respected, even admired, her decision to get out of Wakanda and do some good in the world however she could, his dad had insisted that she had to come back the moment T’Challa was supposed to be announced king. According to T’Chaka, Nakia was the best choice to rule by his side.

He’d listened. He had come for her, intent on following his dad’s plan. But now, it was like he couldn’t think. His thoughts were going too fast and they were going from _I may have a cousin lawful to the throne_ to _Agent Ross is badly wounded I need to check up on him_. It was chaos.  

He’d just been wandering in the corridors when Nakia had come and led him outside. They’d walked for a long time before they reached the edge of the cliff. That’s where they sat down and where T’Challa told Nakia everything that was nagging at him. Well, not _everything_ , but most of it at least.

“He killed his own brother and left a child behind to nothing. What kind of king, what kind of man does that?” T’Challa’s view of his own father was changing drastically and not for the better.

“No man is perfect. Not even your father,” Nakia said.

“He didn’t even give him a proper burial. My uncle N’Jobu betrayed us, but my father, he may have created something even worse.”

“Hey,” Nakia said. “Look at me. You can’t let your father’s mistakes define who you are. You get to decide what kind of king you are going to be.” T’Challa looked down.

She seemed so sure, but he wasn’t. The “what ifs” were too numerous in his head.

A tone rang and Shuri’s hologram appeared.

“Brother, you need to get here now,” she said before disappearing.

All of a sudden, a wave of panic came over him. Was it Ross? Did Shuri not manage to heal him correctly? His stomach churned uncomfortably. He would think about the reason why later, when everything would be quieter.

He and Nakia rushed over to Shuri’s lab. T’Challa’s heart was beating fast in worry but beat even faster when he saw that Agent Ross was standing on his feet next to Shuri, seemingly healthy.

He walked quickly until he was in front of Ross, trying to control his urge to hug the man. Instead, he put his hand on Ross’s shoulder and squeezed, looking at him all over.

“How are you, agent Ross?” T’Challa almost breathed out in relief.

“Surprisingly, I’m completely fine. Thanks to your sister,” Ross smiled lightly.

“Well, if it hadn’t been for T’Challa breaking our rules, bringing you to Wakanda in secret and rushing me to heal you, I wouldn’t have done anything,” Shuri smirked while T’Challa blushed slightly.

Ross looked between them up at T’Challa, eyes full of question. Their eyes locked for a few instants.

“Did you really-” he started to ask but Shuri cut them off.

“Alright, I actually did call you for an important reason and not for you both to stare longingly into each other’s eyes,” Shuri exclaimed. T’Challa started to scoff but she didn’t give him time to answer. While Nakia was just squinting at him. “Okoye called me earlier, there’s a stranger at the border.”

“A stranger?” Nakia asked.

That seemed to trigger Ross into CIA mode as he began to give them the profile of Erik ‘Killmonger’.

The further they talked about him, the more worried T’Challa became. This didn’t smell good. They had no idea who this man was and what he wanted. This was serious.

They all started to walk towards the counsel room besides Shuri, who stayed back in her lab. When the elevator arrived, T’Challa grabbed Ross’s arm so he would stay back.

“Go ahead Nakia, we’ll take the next one,” T’Challa said, gesturing for her to take this elevator. She kept looking at him strange but just nodded and went ahead.

Once the elevator’s doors closed, T’Challa let go of Ross’s arm and turned his body towards him. The CIA agent looked confused, his eyes set on T’Challa’s.

“Are you sure you are fine, Agent Ross?” T’Challa asked kindly.

“You already asked. I’m fine,” Ross said, confused.

“I meant with being here, how are you coping?”

“I’m, well, I’m in a constant state of amazement because of your technology,” Ross said, looking around. His nose was scrunching cutely.

“Cute,” T’Challa muttered then widened his eyes. _What the fuck_.  

Ross’s eyes were back on him and wide, as well.

“What?”

“I mean, um,” T’Challa cleared his throat. _Get a grip_. “I’m glad you are feeling well, I was worried.”

“You were?” Ross asked, his cheeks blushing slightly.

This was a moment where T’Challa felt like either running away or screaming.

All his life had been written down as heir to the throne, dealing with politics and managing various problems. But there was a thing no one had told him he would have to deal with – what if his heartstrings were pulled in different directions at once and he didn’t know which one to reach for?

“Yes,” he just answered, smiling. The direction didn’t matter right now, not when Ross was smiling back at him.

“Why did you bring me here if it meant breaking the rule of bringing stranger into Wakanda?” Ross asked. And, _okay_ , maybe it did matter. _Shit_.

“You were going to die, agent Ross,” T’Challa said.

 

**\----------**

 

“Sure, but you could have put me in a Korean hospital,” Everett shrugged.

“They don’t have our technology and they didn’t have Shuri. You would have died,” T’Challa said, shaking his head.

“I don’t see why that matters, it’s the hazard of the job,” Everett said, and maybe he was pushing it, but he didn’t get it.

“You do. Matter, that is,” T’challa said, looking down before looking back up at Everett. “I couldn’t let you die in a Korean hospital knowing we had the technology to heal you and get you back up on your feet.”

“Right,” Everett said, smiling a little.

“Can you stay with Shuri for the time being?” T’Challa asked him.

“Sure,” he answered and T’challa must have guessed what he was going to ask because of what he said before taking the next elevator.

“I will come back after to tell you about Erik,” he told Everett, smiling before the doors of the elevator closed.

He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and walked back to Shuri’s lab.

He was alive and well, in Wakanda, because king T’Challa didn’t want him to die. He didn’t want to think too much about that, but he knew that as soon as he would be alone he would overthink everything.

 

*

 

The night had fallen when Nakia rushed into the room Shuri had left him in in a hurry.

“What’s wrong?” Everett asked her.

“The king is dead,” she said, choking up on her words.

Everett’s heart fell in his stomach. _What. T’Challa was dead? How? Why?_ He didn’t have time to ask any question or even wonder why it hurt because she threw something at him and spoke up.

“Come with me, unless you want to join him,” she exclaimed before going out of the room.

He followed her through the corridors and elevators and the woods. His mind was completely blank. They didn’t talk and Nakia didn’t explain anything.

They rushed through trees and bushes in the night until they came to a stop in front of Shuri and an older woman.

“Nakia! Who is this man?” The woman asked.

“He’s a friend of T’Challa’s,” Nakia said. Everett’s heart missed a beat. “He saved my life.”

While her and the woman talked about Okoye, Everett tried to get his breathing under control. They’d been running since she’d come for him and now he started to think back to the fact that T’Challa was dead. Actually dead. No life in his body.

No time to question anything. Nakia left again, leaving him with Shuri and the woman.

“What has happened to our Wakanda?” the latter mused out loud.

She suddenly sat on the floor while Shuri was standing beside her.

Meanwhile, Everett leaned back against a tree. Whereas he’d felt alive and well only a few hours ago, no he just felt exhausted, like the burden of everything that had happened was on his shoulders. It wasn’t fair for him to think or feel that. It wasn’t his pain to carry. Nevertheless, there he was.

When Nakia came back they walked in a completely random direction, or at least it looked so to Everett. Shuri assured him that Nakia and Ramonda, her mother – the woman was Shuri and T’Challa’s mother – knew where they were going.

And indeed, they led them up, up, up, until they started walking in snowy paths and then continued walking through the mountains. He was confused, yet again. What were they doing here? And, why were they here when Killmonger was sitting on the Wakandan throne after _killing_ T’Challa?

“So, where are we going again?” he asked to no one in particular.

“We’re taking the heart-shaped herb to Jabari land,” Nakia told him.

“Heart-shaped herb, what is that?”

“It gives whoever takes it heightened abilities,” Shuri piped up.

“It’s what made T’Challa so strong,” Nakia explained.

_Oh_. He’d just thought he was just, well, naturally gifted.

“Nakia,” Ramonda exclaimed as she stopped walking. “I don’t like this, the herb belongs to us. We may be creating a bigger monster with M’Baku,” she spit out. “Nakia, you should take it yourself.”

“I am a spy with no army. I wouldn’t stand a chance,” Nakia told her, and she was right. They needed reinforcement. They couldn’t go back to Wakanda just the four of them.

Shuri’s mother finally agreed so they kept walking in the cold. He breathed out loudly, hoping for some warmth soon. Nakia shushed him.

Speared armed men surrounded them while barking ominously, echoing through the mountain. They led them to a kind of throne room on the edge of the mountain. He was introduced to the Jabari and their humour through M’Baku threatening to feed him to his children, but it didn’t matter when a few seconds later he led them to a room where, in the middle of it, T’Challa was laying, unconscious, in the snow.

_Was he alive? How?_

Everett didn’t feel like breathing a sigh of relief just yet. M’Baku told them he was in a coma. Ramonda, Shuri and Nakia managed to bring him back somehow. He couldn’t really watch them. M’Baku made him understand that he couldn’t so he hadn’t. The guy was impressive, and Everett was in no shape or form able to fight him.

When he turned around, T’Challa was there, alive. Everett finally breathed. He couldn’t begin to comprehend how they made it happen but the king, who had broken his country’s rule to heal him, was alive so he couldn’t care less about the technicalities.

 

 

Once they brought him clothes and blankets, Nakia explained to T’Challa what was happening to their country.

“Killmonger has the full support of our military and…he burned the garden of the heart-shaped herb.”

“Well, of course, he did. That what he was trained to do,” Everett told Nakia, mainly because every time he looked at T’Challa he felt like hugging him for not being dead, which was ridiculous. Seriously, what were they expecting from a guy who had enlisted like it was a fucking video game. Also, “His unit used to work with the CIA to destabilise foreign countries. They would always strike a transition of power like an election and you,” he gestured toward T’challa, “the death of a monarch. You got control of government, the military…”

“Power recesses,” T’Challa mused.

“Right,” Everett said.

They were in deep shit. They needed a plan and a good one, with an army to have their back preferably. It wasn’t going to be easy.

While Everett was thinking about tactics, Ramonda, Shuri and Nakia asserted that they would not leave Wakanda, that they would be right there with him. Like hell if Everett was going to leave. If he could help T’Challa, he would.

“I’m in, too,” he said. Four pairs of eyes turned to him. T’Challa’s had a thankful shine to them. “What?” He smirked. “You’re gonna need all the help you can get.”

 

**\----------**

 

The first thing T’Challa noticed when he woke up was the cold. Second was his mother, sister, and Nakia hugging him. He was back. He looked up and saw M’Baku and agent Ross standing there with smiles on their faces.

Once he was wearing a few more layers, they talked about what to do about the Killmonger situation.

He wanted as few people he cared about to be involved in this. Killmonger was unpredictable and dangerous. If T’Challa could prevent more people he cared about to be hurt, he would do anything. However, neither his mother, Shuri, or Nakia agreed to stay away.

“I’m in, too,” he heard Ross say and looked up at him, surprised. “What? Your gonna need all the help you can get,” he smirked.

T’Challa felt his lips tug upright, even though he was worried for all of them. Yeah, he wasn’t denying that he cared about Ross any more. He’d brought him to Wakanda even if it was forbidden just to save his life. There was no denying anything, any more.

In the end, M’Baku agreed to help them and bring his army with him.

 

* 

 

The battle had been violent and bloody. Not everyone got out of it uninjured. Killmonger wasn’t a threat any more but T’Challa’s heart hurt, he couldn’t bring himself to be happy. This wasn’t a happy ending. They had created him, it was because of them that he had become who he had been.

He was currently looking out of the window, trying to get his bearings back but it was hard when all he saw out of the window was the aftermath of the battle.

He heard knocks on the door and turned around. Ross was standing in the doorway.

“Hey, are you alright?” The CIA agent asked.

“I’m fine,” T’Challa said, shaking his head before turning back to the window.

“You know, t’s not because you’re king that you have to downplay what happened out there,” Ross said.

T’challa didn’t answer but he felt him near. When he turned his head, he realised the man was standing just next to him, looking out of the window as well.

“Why are you here, agent Ross?” He asked, looking back at the battlefield. What he meant, really, was, why was he _still_ here?

“What do you mean?” Ross asked.

“The battle is over, you should report back to your superiors. Someone might be missing you.”

“Wha- no, no one is missing me. I don’t care if I have to report back. I’ll do that in due time. Listen, what happened with Killmonger was…a mess. His intention might have been somewhat honourable, but he went about it the wrong way. The man clearly lacked empathy. He would have killed you. Stop overthinking this.”

“He was right. We could have been helping the world for years, but we stayed here, closed up from them. Erik Killmonger was the perfect example of what we have been doing wrong. I, no, _we_ have to start sharing and giving with the world if we want it t become a better place. We have to open up to it.”

When T’Challa was done talking he looked over at Ross and saw him gaping at him.

“Do you mean- are you thinking about taking down the fences?”

“Not exactly.”

So, T’Challa told Ross about his plan of involving the United Nation. He hadn’t talked about it yet with none of his counsel members. And, okay, that was strange behaviour for him. How he couldn’t shut his mouth in the presence of the CIA agent was beyond him.

“Have your fully recovered?” He asked suddenly. He knew that if he kept talking about his plan he would tell his every move to Ross.

“Me? Have _you_ recovered? _You_ were in that battle, not me,” Ross gestured outside.

“Maybe shaken, it will pass. I was talking about your back, though.”

“My back is completely fine, your sister made sure of that.”

“Thank you again,” T’Challa smiled. He put his hand on Ross’s arm. “For helping us.”

“You’re welcome,” Ross told him and put his own hand on T’Challa’s. T’Challa felt his cheek blush slightly but didn’t let anything show on his face. He was a grown man. “Anytime you need some help, you can call me.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

They stared into each other’s eyes for too long to be considered normal. T’Challa cleared his throat and took his hand back from Ross’s arm when he realised he also had let it rest there. He really needed to shake it up.

“I still feel like I should thank you again for saving my life,” Ross said.

“No, you should not,” T’Challa shook his head.

“I really should. No one broke their country’s rules to save my life, besides you,” Ross said, somewhat shyly, cheeks flushing. Ross with pink cheeks surely was a look T’challa never thought about but now that he had in in front of him he felt the urge of stroking his thumbs against the agent’s cheeks. He clenched his fist.

He just smiled to Ross.

 

*****

 

Later, he was sitting, alone in his room when he finally let himself think about it. Ross had gone back to Shuri’s lab and T’Challa allowed himself to breathe.

He’d been persuaded eh would ask Nakia to stay with him, by his side, on the Wakandan throne. She was an amazing woman, but now he didn’t anymore. Ever since Korea, his mind was chaotic. He’d been the first time he’d seen Ross again since the whole Zemo case. They’d parted in good term despite the prison misunderstanding. But that was it.

He’d felt strangely pleased to see him again even though it was in a Korean club and Ross had been meeting with Klaue, but no matter. When the agent had been shot, all T’Challa could think about was that they needed to heal him quick, rule or no rule, he needed to bring him back to Shuri, he needed for Ross to be alive. That in itself was the issue.

Or, well, not really an issue, but yes. Did he… _like_ Ross? He thought about him in his time here, and how he had volunteered to take down Killmonger although it wasn’t even any of his concern. He thought back to their conversations and the smiles. “I like you, a lot” Ross had said. Just thinking about it made T’Challa heart clench and a wave of fondness took over him.

Well, how about that.

 

**\----------**

 

Everett kept fidgeting on his seat while everyone took theirs. Someone, probably important, started talking to him on his left but he couldn’t focus on anything. He hadn’t seen T’Challa since he’d left Wakanda a few weeks ago and there he was in freaking Austria.

“Sorry, what?” He asked to the man on his left.

“I asked if you had any idea what this was about? If they made us come here again to repeat stuff about the Sokovia accords, I will probably nap,” the man scoffed.

Everett recoiled. He knew some people didn’t agree with the accord, but the agreement in the United Nation had been somewhat unanimous. It didn’t matter right now, anyway. He just shrugged in answer. He was too much on high alert, anything could set him off.

He caught some movement at the door from the corner of his eyes, so he turned his head to see what was happening. T’Challa was standing there with Okoye, talking rapidly, probably in Xhosa, judging from the look on the faces around them.

The Wakandan king looked good. Better than the last time they’d seen each other. He was wearing a black fitted suit which, _wow_. Okay. He looked handsome as hell.

He tried to look away, but it was like his eyes always came back to T’Challa. Once more, he looked back at him, standing in the doorway. The man was looking right back. Everett’s heart missed a beat. _Calm the hell down_.

Everett nodded at him in greeting. It was a neutral way of saying hello, nothing wrong with that.

However, T’Challa beamed back and gestured for him to come. _Shit_.

He stood back up and walked towards the Wakandan. Once he was just next to them he saw that not only Okoye was there, but Nakia as well. Everett’s tried really hard not to grimace. Did they, had they? It didn’t matter.

“Hello, agent Ross,” T’Challa said to him in a honey like voice and wow. Where did that come from?

“Erm, yes, hello,” he blushed. _Come on_. Grown man, here.

“Agent Ross,” Nakia smirked. _What_. Why was she smirking at him? It felt like she knew something he didn’t; He didn’t like it. He just nodded back.

“Could we speak after the announcement?” T’Challa asked him.

“Sure,” Everett shrugged. Probably about logistic. He’ll have to force himself not to gape at his beautiful suit the whole time like he was doing right now, but, yeah.

 

 

Once he was back in his seat, the whole affair didn’t take as long as his left neighbour thought it would. T’challa started speaking, loud and clear. He looked fearless to Everett.

“My name is king T’Challa, son of king T’Chaka, I am the sovereign ruler of the nation of Wakanda and for the first time in our history we will be sharing our knowledge and resources with the outside world.”

Everett tried to contain the nonsensical pride he was feeling.

“Wakanda will no longer watch from the shadows. We cannot. We must not. We will work to be an example of how we, as brothers and sisters on this earth, should treat each other. Now, more than ever.”

T’Challa continued speaking to his alert audience and Everett couldn’t help it. He let the pride out and smiled at the king.

“We must find a way to look after one another as if we were one single tribe,” the king finished.

It went one for another thirty minutes of questions after this before it was over and every one was talking in groups here and there in the room.

Everett was himself talking with someone when he felt a hand on his wrist. He turned around and saw that it was T’Challa.

“Can I bother you for a moment?” He asked, to which Everett nodded.

He followed him all the while T’Challa was holding his wrist. He brought him to an empty room which looked like a random office.

Everett went in and leaned against the desk, almost sitting on it. T’Challa closed the door and turned towards him.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“Do you remember when we brought you to Wakanda because you were shot?” T’Challa asked all of a sudden. Everett laughed.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“The first thing I thought when I saw you had been shot was ‘not him’.” Everett’s eyes widened. “I was confused as of why for a little while. The situation with Killmonger didn’t help. Do you know where I am going with this?”

“Um, not really.”

For the first time, Everett saw the king looking shyly at his shoes. He walked up to him.

“What are you trying to say?”

“I like you,” T’Challa breathed out. He sounded confident while being out of breath.

_What_.

“What?”

“It is okay if you do not feel the same way, I just felt like I needed to tell you because everything is quiet and that might not last. I _am_ sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way.”

“What? No. I mean. What? Aren’t you- I thought you were with Nakia, or something.”

“I was. A long time ago. I asked her to come to my ceremony because it was what my father had wanted and what I thought I wanted as well. But, I think that the more time has passed and the more we have fallen out of love. Now, I do not see myself with her. I love her and respect her, but I am not in love with her.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?”

“I do. Like you too, I mean. But…this is complex. I am a CIA agent, travelling around the world but mainly based in the United States and you’re the king of Wakanda. A king. I’m nothing.”

“Nonsense. This does not matter to me.”

“But you-” Everett started to say to add another con for this, for them, but T’Challa brought his hands to Everett’s cheeks which made him stop at once.

“Do you like me?” T’Challa asked, staring into his eyes, thumbs stroking his cheeks.

“I,er, yes,” Everett stuttered. Seriously, his hands were burning his cheeks. Or, his cheeks were burning because of the hands. He wasn’t sure.

“Do you want to try to see if this is possible?”

“This?” Everett asked weakly. Having T’Challa this close to him were doing things to his knees. Among other things.

“Us, together.”

It _will_ be complicated. He knew that. T’Challa also probably knew that. But, the way the king’s hands felt on his cheeks, the way it felt to have him so close, and the way his heart was beating faster, made him want to try.

“Yeah, okay,” Everett breathed out.

T’Challa beamed happily and Everett couldn’t help but beam back. He felt tingles in his stomach. However, the tingles transformed into fireworks when T’Challa leaned into him and lightly pressed his lips to his. Everett pressed back while bringing his hands around T’Challa’s neck.

He couldn’t help but sigh as they kissed, soft and sweet. Their closed lips moving against each other, no rush, no battle, just them in this quiet room, enjoying each other.

T’Challa was the first to lean back but pressed his forehead against Everett’s. Both were breathing a bit loudly but still, everything was so epacefull between them. Everett smiled.

“Should we talk more, elsewhere?” Everett asked.

“What did you have in mind, agent Ross?” T’challa asked, cheekily. Everett felt his blood rush down at the “agent Ross”.

“Somewhere…more private,” he smirked back.

“Come with me,” T’Challa said as he took his hand in his and led them to the elevator.

 

 

**The end.**

**Author's Note:**

> My hand needs to stop slipping.   
> I hope I managed to give y'all some needed fluff. Also, I proofread myself, so mistakes are my own, sorry about that.
> 
>  
> 
> Tell me what you thought about this one, fellow Everpanther shippers <3


End file.
